interview

hooray i have been interviewed

ryan manning did it

he is an electronic and human enigma

he is made only of pulsating flesh and fibre-optic cord

he is my hero

interactive quiz

1. what's the point?

2. is it ok to not be fine?

3. do i need to carry on forever?

4. how long for toast?

5. give me an idea of how to live.


Please answer these questions.

oh woe

the small beetle is crawling over the foot of the man.

the man shrugs his shoulders and puts on a mask. the mask is like the face of a beetle. the man hisses with powerful anger. the beetle on the man's foot hisses with powerful anger.

the man is the father of the beetle . he is scuttling around on his belly, scuffing his clothes and dirtying his face.

ding dong door bell. no more make believe for the man, his delivery is here. he scuttles to the door and slowly pulls himself up to maximum height. it looks like his head is being pulled upwards by a silver thread.

his dinner is there.
a plate of chicken and pies.
the food turns into a mass of maggots in front of his eyes.

MS paint

watch this the whole way through if you like

tonight

is the night of 'there's no point in not being friends with someone if you want to be friends with them'.

crispin is coming up from london and staying at my house.

i am going to give him one million kisses.

powerful resonance

I am talking to you. There is a feeling.

The feeling is something that we have created together, because of the things we have been talking about. The feeling makes a noise like white noise. It is like the noise that you hear when you are very still and there is no noise. Someone has taken that noise and amplified it until it is very large and round and fills the space between us.

We sit opposite each other.

I stare at your face and you stare at mine. There is a mania between us.

I look at your face and do not recognise it. There are patches of white and shade on your face. They correspond to the shape of your face in the context of the light in the room. When you blink shadows and tears fall down your face.

Your lips move and you blink and I see that you are very very sad. You give away your emotions in the shape of the features of your face. I marvel at the way in which your features all work together so nicely. I notice that you are sad and it has an effect on me. The sadness that you feel directly alters my mood.

There is a breeze. It moves your hair slightly and makes me cold.

I want to scream and thrash around and then leave. I want you to look at me and shout at me. I want to break something over my head and cut the skin on my face.

I am lying in my bed imagining these things. I think that I am not OK. I think that I am definitely not quite fine.

I go down to the kitchen and pour out one kilogram of salt onto the surface of the kitchen unit. I find the knife that I use to slice up the salt and I slice up the salt into equal sections. I still feel the rush of adrenaline as I slice through the salt with my knife.

Twenty minutes after I have sliced the salt, 500 snails throw themselves onto it and fizzle to death.

twitter

i am on twitter now.

i am starting a new religion.

it is the only true religion.

please join us. we are the 'Harmonic Wanderers.'

intolerable heat and feverish hallucination

I am sitting in a small dark room and I am very very very hot. The heat is entering the room from the walls. It is radiating inwards and heating me. I have arranged four fans around me blasting me. They are blasting dry and hot air at me.

I am sweating and wretched. I have nearly sweated all of the moisture out of my body. I feel a red vibration all around me. The walls are humming with a crimson vibration.

I have no strength left. I am starting to enjoy feeling this way. I have no control over anything any more and I feel liberated.

I feel like my parchment skin is about to catch aflame. I am covered with corrugated iron and my insides are asbestos. The most terrible things are happening to me. Oh. An incoming call. "Good afternoon I am dying." "I am trapped in a small room." "Can you somehow help me" "I think there are some ants in here with me." "My skin is falling off."

I need the toilet so I let myself out of the room for a minute.

I let myself back into the room. I curl up slowly and rotate into nothingness.

Short Film Competition

Would you like to enter a short film competition?
Do you live in Manchester?
If the answer is yes to both of these probing questions please send me an e-mail or comment on this post.

P.S I am floating on a cloud of terror.

self improvement

I am standing very still on one leg in the middle of my room and there is a calming and beautiful music wafting through the air. The music is Enya.

I am imagining sailing away on a silver moon beam. I am imagining sliding on a moonbeam while standing serenly on one leg all the way to the centre of the sun.

What strange human relationships will I experience on my journey into the centre of the sun? I will meet professionals and vagrants, mothers and young children, introverts and racconteurs. Each human relationship will have no meaning, but a singular texture.

I see that the lines on my face and hands increase in severity as I approach the sun.

I feel as though I am a scientific phenomena. I glace at my heads up display. Systems nominal. Speed = 1,000,000 Mph.

This reminds me of a trip to toramelinos. Or benidorm. But less exotic.

Oh. I have arrived at the centre of the sun. Oh, God lives here!

Fancy that!

After my trip to the sun I sit, tired, on my sofa. What a day out!

business deal

does anyone want to buy the username and password to my blog for £50,000?

you can own your very own blog for just £50,000.

please help me to live my life for just £50,000.

Good Things about This Blog:

1. Have fun changing the picture now and then.
2. Have the chance to write funny things, sad things and pretty things.
3. Average between 3-7 comments per post.
4. Get around 30-60 unique visits a day.
5. Have the fun of constantly checking the blog to see if there are any new comments.
6. Be a loser.

Ok so anyone who wants it - just £50,000.

outdoorsman

Just going for a lovely walk somewhere.

Going to go and cut down trees to make a fire.

There are no trees in manchester.

The place is like a grave.

The only colour is grey.

There is a metal tree in manchester.

A metal tree.

Are you joking?

and come here

There is a river somewhere near the place you grew up which always reminds you of memories of your father and siblings. Even if those memories are very difficult to make into something certain, they exist on the fringes of your awareness, lurking.

Running water and thick mud. Snails and woodlice. Making a fire and roasting sticks on the fire. Making things from leaves. Not feeling alone. Being a part of nature being apart from nature.

Someone can come and lift you bodily out of the mud and place you in the field next to your house or the road next to your house and you can play with them and jump over a rope or kick a ball and be a part of the physical universe.

Children are part of the physical universe. I am a part of the non physical universe. My body is made into a paste and my mind is under nourished. Everyone gets old and is no longer part of the physical universe. Athletes are not part of the physical universe.

No one who is a grown up loves the physical universe.

The date is irrelevant

Is it OK to want to be in a Coma?

I think that if I could lie down and be looked after I would be ok. I don't really want to be a burden on anyone else. I wonder what the images inside my mind would be like if I was in a coma.

Perhaps there wouldn't be any images inside my head. Perhaps the most tragic and upsetting images from the entirety of my life would play on a loop in my head.

I would not like to be in a coma if the most tragic and upsetting images from the entirety of my life played on a loop. It would be like I wasn't in a coma which is the not the point of me being in a coma.

I am trying to think of the best and most simple way to get into a coma. Perhaps the best way is to somehow asphyxiate myself to a certain degree. I don't think that I can bring myself to do this. I don't think that I really want to do anything bad to myself.

I think I just like the idea of being totally seperate from everything else that isn't me. I want to scream out as loudly as possible in a room that is totally isolated from everyone else. I would like to have a safe and controlled way to remove the mundane thoughts from my mind. I think that many thoughts are all mundane.

My social interactions are often not quite as excellent as I would like to be. I think that people often will keep going for a while until they understand me a bit better and then I am ok. But I don't think that people should have to do that. It seems unfair. It seems to be a burden.

I don't think that this is going anywhere. I don't know whether this is the correct place. My heart is not beating with an electronic rhythm. The circuit boards inside me are meshing with the organic matter again. Tendons are copulating with batteries and birthing an odd creature. My brain is covered in tin foil.

I am self-obsessed. I feel guilty for writing here.

Men has been unleashed

People have been receiving their Men Books. I did the illustrations for it. I think that anyone who likes the stupid rubbish that I write will love the stupid rubbish that Crispin writes.

Chris Killen famous author and magnificent man-child with huge muscles, has written a review of it.

Here is that review.

If you send an e-mail to Crispin he will maybe do another print run. Everyone should e-mail crispin regardless of whether they want a copy of the book or not. Crispin is lonely and slips into patterns of self-hating behaviour if people don't e-mail him.

I give you permission to e-mail crispin.